


According to John, That's a Date

by melanoms



Series: 50 Kisses [13]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Jealous Sherlock, Sherlock Holmes Has Feelings, Surprise Kissing, what are emotions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:41:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25926061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melanoms/pseuds/melanoms
Summary: Greg asked you to dinner and Sherlock is perplexed. While he may not understand the unsettling knot in his stomach, you can see right through his confusion. Fortunately for the detective, your emotional intelligence is far higher than his.Kiss Prompt: Kissing in a stairwell, giving them an artificial height difference.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/You
Series: 50 Kisses [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1671802
Comments: 4
Kudos: 139





	According to John, That's a Date

The sound of Sherlock snickering behind you was simply undeniable.

“We could, um,” he said mockingly, “we could have dinner sometime.”

You bore your eyes forward as you strutted to the lift. Behind you, Sherlock put his hands in his pockets and smirked.

“Lestrade’s jokes are improving. Maybe he does have a sense of humor.”

You punched the up button. Crossing your arms, you tapped your foot as you watched the light illuminate twelve, eleven, ten—

“Why aren’t you laughing?” Sherlock furrowed his brow.

“Why aren’t you working?”

Seven, six, five.

Damn the lift was slow.

“Answering a question with a question.” He examined you. 

Three, two, one.

The doors finally opened.

You hopped inside and pressed the button for the sixth floor. In a single stride, Sherlock followed close behind. His eyes scanned the tenseness of your muscles and the fact that you would not meet his unrelenting gaze.

“No,” he gasped. “You’re not actually considering…”

You dashed out of the lift just as the doors started to close. Sherlock slammed his palm to the edge, forcing it open as you scurried to the stairwell.

You threw open the door and began your ascent through the business offices. Even given the difference in stride length, you were ahead of Sherlock until…

He grabbed your wrist.

“Did you say yes?” He scowled.

“We are not here to interrogate me. Save it for the victim’s brother.”

“Oh, we already know that he—no. You…” He tilted his head to the side. “You said yes.”

“I like to eat.” 

You started to turn away. But Sherlock tightened his grip.

“Are you actually interested in, in…” he stammered.

“Greg.”

“You don’t even know his name!”

“Sherlock, it’s dinner. Two people who like each other eating food and having conversation.”

“According to John, that’s a date.” Sherlock raised his eyebrows.

“Yes, I thought that was obvious.”

You spun around and walked up one, two, three steps before he opened his mouth again.

“You can’t possibly—”

Gripping the banister, you turned around and jabbed a finger to his chest. His eyes widened at the point of contact.

“Why are you suddenly so fascinated by my social habits?” You narrowed your eyes.

“You’re embarrassing yourself.”

“You’re such a dick.”

As you rolled your eyes and turned away, Sherlock yanked on your wrist again. But, physical dexterity miscalibrated, he tugged with enough force to steal your footing. You almost stumbled down the two stairs between you. But Sherlock caught your balance at your elbows.

“Don’t get dinner,” he murmured.

“Unlike you, I actually need to eat.”

“Don’t get dinner...with him.”

Sherlock lowered his gaze. Furrowing your eyebrows in reply, you drew in a breath.

“Why?”

“I don’t know.”

You smirked. “That must vex you.” 

“Undeniably.”

“I wasn’t referring to not knowing, Sherlock.”

Holding your breath, you placed one foot down so you were one stair above him. Studying his expression, your gaze flickered to his lips before returning to his eyes.

“If only you were a detective of emotions. You might find the one you’re feeling.”

You leaned forward and pressed your lips to his. Sherlock returned the gesture; acutely aware of the thumping of his heart. But before the curious detective could explore the expression of affection any further, you pulled away and shrugged.

“But I hope you figure it out.”

With an extra spring in your step, you bounced up the next flight of stairs. Your shadow for the day, however, was frozen on his step. Sherlock furrowed his brow and placed his fingertips to his lips.

Perhaps he would consider dinner sometime.

Even if he wasn’t hungry.


End file.
